rematch | ishman

flashback

Shubman came out to Ishan in tenth grade. Ishan was already stressed about the looming board exams and how they crashed with the IPL schedule, so he didn’t notice the way Shubman bounced his leg nervously or the way he was extra fidgety today or the way he was unnaturally quiet.

“Do you think I’ll pass History if I make a quick trip to Wankhede the night before?” Ishan asked with a frown.

“You’ll mess up the dates,” Shubman replied inattentively. “Ishan, can we talk for a second?”

The latter shut his book close, glad to have a distraction from studying. “Do you want to trade your Dhoni trump card?”

“No, it’s not about cricket.”

Ishan sat straight, looking carefully at the boy. “O-kay then.”

Shubman rubbed his palms against the fabric of his pants, drumming his fingers to calm his nerves. “So, I’ve been thinking-”

“Not a good sign.”

Shubman shot him a glare, adding, “About my sexuality.”

Ishan blinked. “What, like you wanna have sex?”

“No, that’s not what it means.” Shubman flicked his eyes across the room, wondering how he could possibly get it through his best friend's thick head. “Have you heard of gay people?”

“As in, happy people?”

“Nice, you’ve stopped sleeping in English class.” Shubman’s lip twitched in an irritated smile. “As in, boys who like boys, and girls who like girls. Both, sometimes.”

Ishan's mouth formed an 'O' shape in realization. “Ah, that.”

Shubman nodded. He wasn’t sure if the low emphasis on “that” was a good sign. “What do you think?”

“How does it matter what I think?” Ishan quirked an eyebrow.

“It matters,” Shubman said with a sharp inhale. “To me.”

“I’m not sure where you’re getting at.” Ishan chuckled nervously.

Shubman’s eyes visibly softened as he leaned forward. “Ishan, I am-”

“I- um- I need to wee.” Ishan got up abruptly. “Be right back.”

Shubman watched Ishan dash out faster than he ever had. He let out a shaky breath and dropped his head onto the table. He fucked up. Ishan would definitely not ‘be right back’. The boy was probably at the doorstep, about to leave and never see Shubman’s face again.

He knows. He hates it. He hates me.

A frustrated tear slid down Shubman's cheek as he felt himself sniffle. Why did he have to go and ruin everything? He could have lived with his new discovery hidden forever. He could have lived pretending to understand when Ishan and Abhi fawned over the pretty girls in their class. He could have lived without expecting Ishan’s support. He could have lived a normal life.

But he couldn’t live without Ishan. Without their friendship.

He only realized he was full-blown sobbing when he felt a pair of arms around him, pulling him closer.

“What happened? Why are you crying?” Ishan asked in a panicked voice.

Shubman cried harder, clutching onto Ishan’s shirt tightly. “You’re back.”

“Was I not supposed to be?”

Shubman chuckled softly, wiping away his tears. “I thought I lost you.”